


In the Herald's Rest with the Virtuoso

by Jettee



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:36:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jettee/pseuds/Jettee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hall likes to listen to Zither, be it his music, his smart remarks during the battle or his stories afterwards about places he's seen and people he's known and things he's done, shared in that unique way of his that reveals as much as it hides. He's not too fond of his groupies and the fascination the virtuoso seems to have for one Tevine mage, Altus Dorian Pavus. But why is it like that? Hall can't imagine.</p><p>An evening in the Herald's Rest with some of the Inquisition Agents and Dorian in the mix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Herald's Rest with the Virtuoso

**Author's Note:**

> It's a little piece of a story with the Inquisition Agents sharing a drink in the Herald's Rest in Skyhold (of course with Hall's (the Archers') proposal behind it). Dorian's there, too.
> 
> Disclaimer: The whole universum of "Dragon Age" belongs to its rightful owners, I do not own any part of it. This is just for fun.

The Herald's Rest is bright lit and crowded and loud. A delicate looking bard is playing the lute and singing near the fireplace, but her ballads featuring the Inquisitor and his most trustworthy companions are lost in the constant roar of laughter and drunken talks of the patrons. There's so many people here: humans and dwarfs and elves and even qunari. Some of them are from the inner circle of the Inquisition lead forces like the Iron Bull and his marry band of Chargers or Sera the Archer. That is the true lure of the Herald's Rest: come here to feel close to the Inquisitor and bask in his glory.

Hall isn't here for that. In fact, he prefers the tavern down the yard that common soldiers adopted as their own place to meet and drink and laugh and relax, but Rion, Belinda and Zither all want to share the evening in the luxury of the Herald's Rest. From the three of them only Zither is a regular in the Griffin's Eyrie, not really concerned where he's consuming his wine as long as he's surrounded with people - or, as he prefers to call them, adoring groupies - he can drink with. Hall doesn't really see Belinda there; the Chantry knights don't mix well with foot soldiers and her bright eyed enthusiasm and openness paired with her undeniable beauty could lead to the wrong conclusions all around and even worse situations. It's true that she's more than capable to straighten some drunken wooers, but why to provoke the danger where it's not needed? Rion doesn't care for drunken soldiers as long as they listen to him talk about due coexistence of mages and non-mages - what more often than not brings its own kind of troubles on their heads. Hall's all heartedly for Rion's ideas - no one should be put in confinement as long as they don't threaten other people' rights and freedom - but it's still a sensitive subject and Rion's not subtle nor amicable and, well. His temper's as volatile as his magic and the Griffin's Eyrie from ground to roof is all wood and tar. It would be real shame to lost that place in such manner.

The Iron Bull's mercenary company is present in their regular part of the tavern's first floor as always when they're in Skyhold, only their Commander is missing, most likely still with the Inquisitor. Hall is greeted by some of them on his entry - they pass each other on the training grounds and sometimes he and the Chargers' archers bet against each other in friendly shooting contests. He's won some nice things from them, an exquisite hunter knife and well made leather bracers among his wins, but he's lost some, too. It's all for good sport and training, though, no hard feelings between them.

In his search for his companions he goes up to the second floor. It's still loud and stifling, but a little calmer than the main floor. Surprisingly, the clear voice of the bard is more audible here, Hall's even able to distinguish words of her ballad. It's a beautiful song about a nightingale. Oh, no, not the bird, of course, but Lady Spymaster.

He sees Zither sitting at the table on the balcony right over the bard's little scene and surely it's the best place to enjoy the songs. Hall's ready to bet that most patrons of the Herald's Rest would choose the look of miss Meryden Hallewel over her singing skills, but of course not Zither. He's all about the music. Or so Hall thinks. 

The virtuoso doesn't sit alone, but the person that keeps him company isn't someone Hall's expected. Instead of Belinda or Rion, who aren't here, yet, he sees a dark haired man with a pampered mustache and in fancy clothes. Hall knows him, or rather knows of him. Dorian Pavus, a powerful mage from the Tevinter Imperium that accompanies the Inquisitor in his travels.

He slows his steps, not sure what he should do now. But then he doesn't have much options. Looking around reveals some familiar faces he didn't notice till now, but they would be rather surprised to see him by their table. He's not good at casual banter even with people he knows well; it would be awkward and painful for everyone involved.

Were it the main floor, he could go sit with the Chargers for a drink or two and not bother the two mages.

But it's already too late to turn back to the staircase. Zither sees him and beckons with a wave of fingers. The other mage is already aware of his presence and he finds himself on the other end of an appraising, bottomless stare that makes him stumble. Pavus frowns, but doesn't look away. If Zither reacts, it's lost under the orlesian half-mask that covers his face from the mouth up. Hall comes to a halt by the table, searching for proper words of greetings. There aren't many more important people in the Skyhold than the one he's face to face now: the Inquisitor himself, Lady Spymaster, Lady Ambasador, Commander-

Zither rescues him from frantic thoughts with a loud screech of chair that he pulls out for him. 

"Come join us. We're still waiting with the main performance for the rest, but the opening act is already in full swing."

Hall nods and sits. There are several bottles of wine, cider and ale along with mugs on the table, some of them indeed already emptied. Zither indicates the full ones with an inviting gesture of his hand.

"Yes. Thank you." He reaches for a mug and ale, and then risks a glance at Pavus, who's still observing him with a slightly curious but otherwise inscrutable stare. He has no idea what the Tevines say to each other when they meet, never mind the noble Tevines. "Hello, Ser."

Pavus nods politely and returns the greetings.

"I have seen the manuscripts you and your fellow Agents brought back to the Skyhold from your last adventure," he says then. He seems completely at ease, comfortable even, talking to a total stranger. And praising said stranger, no less. "I have a great respect for what you do, let me say that. The bodies of the Venatori bastards you freed from this worldly existence are a nice bonus for me."

The last part is said with an audible approval and a note of sincere delight.

Hall unconsciously rubs his shoulder where an electric shock from one of the Venatori burned his flesh black and ashen. The healing magic helped - his arm is once again whole and in working order but the slight prickling sensation is still present. Neria said it should vanish in a week or two; it's just that his nerves need to forget the damage that's not there anymore.

"We took as many of them as we could, but still it's just a little fraction of the whole that's out in the world."

"Do not demean your contribution to this war, my friend. We all do what we're assigned to. And although I know it isn't proper thinking I am grateful there still are Venatori I can hunt down myself."

"Be glad till it lasts. Young Ed Two's ridiculously good at taking out the foes, be it Venatori mages or Red Templars or ugly demons," Zither says with a small smile visible from under the bottom edge of the mask. "We're all good at it."

"Ah, yes, of course," Pavus agrees and then talks directly to Hall. "I was just saying, what your friend does is extraordinary to the point I lack words to express my admiration. I, of course, have heard of that way of tunneling magic, but never known anyone who was able to do just that. I hope someday I get the permission to take a part in your adventures and witness this magnificent demonstration of power."

"That's- really something," Hall admits and immediately winces at his inadequate wording. He's here not only with one of the most eloquent people he's ever known - Zither - but also someone who has to be a true master in the art of words with his upbringing and experience. He clears his throat and tries again. "I've worked with some mages before, but what Zither does with his lute is simply striking. And it's not only the force behind all those notes, the music itself is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

"Thank you," Zither says simply with the same small smile as the moment ago and Hall feels his face go hot till his ears burn. Pavus looks from one to the other but says nothing, only his eyebrows arch slightly up.

After that they talk comfortably, well, Zither and Pavus talk, Hall mostly listens and sips on his ale. 

He likes to listen to Zither, be it his music, his smart remarks during the battle or his stories afterwards about places he's seen and people he's known and things he's done, shared in that unique way of his that reveals as much as it hides. Now he and Pavus discuss some mutual acquaintance Hall knows nothing about, but it doesn't bother him.

He can't imagine how it would be, meeting with nobles, taking part in some fancy parties, gathering information for his and someone else's purposes. Yes, Zither isn't a bard, not like Lady Spymaster, he's the virtuoso, but Hall is pretty sure whatever he did in his years in the Circle and before that and after, it wasn't only music and magic. He couldn't do that, he wouldn't know what to say, how to behave, but that's hardly surprising and not even Lady Spymaster would think about using his Agent's status like that. But regardless, he likes to hear stories Zither has to tell. Or perhaps he simply likes to hear Zither talk.

It's obvious that Zither is enjoying the company of Dorian Pavus. That's understandable. Hall can't find a reasonable answer to the question of why the virtuoso even agreed to his in-battle proposal of a shared drink after their mission is done, but he did, and Hall doesn't let himself wonder, now. He's here. They're here. It's more than enough, right?

His ears burn again. He shifts in the chair to mask his embarrassment, but of course it doesn't work like that. Both pairs of eyes bore into him questioningly. He shakes his head, trying to pass without words it's nothing, but neither of them is buying it. Thankfully, there are no comments and Hall's grateful.

"Look, Rion and Belinda are here," Zither indicates the staircase with his chin.

Pavus stands up.

"I think I took enough of your time of relaxation. I shouldn't impose on you any longer," he says, but doesn't end at this. "I hope we can meet again as I see we have more in common than I previously imagined. Perhaps in a less crowded, more private surroundings?"

Zither laughs, although Hall isn't sure, why.

"I'm afraid I may be-" Zither thinks for a moment, for the first time Hall knows him looking for a word. Then he looks at Hall and he finishes smoothly. "Otherwise occupied."

"Ah." Pavus' smirk is strangely knowing when he, too, casts a quick glance at the archer. "I have meant all three of us, to be precise. But I do understand if that won't be possible in the instant future."

"No, it won't be. But let me assure you I will bear that thought in mind."

"I have no doubt you will, my friend." Pavus bows gallantly before them. "Have a nice night, good Sers." He leaves with this parting line.

"Why have I a feeling I didn't understand a word you just said?" Hall asks absentmindedly, watching Pavus' departure.

Zither hides his smirk behind a wine bottle.

"Please, don't. It's nothing, really. Just an eccentric talk of two- weirdoes."

"All right. It's just-" Pavus's already gone, but Hall has problems with looking back at the virtuoso. "I know I'm no good with people, but I'm not completely unaware. To be precise. You know?"

Zither laughs. He reaches for Hall's hand over the table. He doesn't try to hold it or squeeze it, just lightly slide with his touch over the back and knuckles from the wrist to the tips of the fingers. 

"Believe me, I know."

Then he once again takes his wine, busying himself with it.

Hall doesn't get the chance to respond in any way to that.

"Hey, was that Dorian Pavus, the Tevine Altus?" It's Rion taking the chair vacated by the other mage.

"Yes," Zither says. "Yes, that was Dorian Pavus. Interesting persona, I must say."

Hall doesn't know why that last part prods at his thoughts, but he knows he doesn't like it.

"Oh, I've heard of him!" Belinda exclaims excitedly. "Mother Giselle doesn't like him, at all, but it seems that the Inquisitor holds him in high esteem. I would like to know him in person. Do you think you could introduce us, Zither?"

"Me, too," Rion adds, not letting himself be excluded from the discussion. "He's a Tevine mage, a free mage from the birth. He could contribute greatly to our cause. I want to know his perspective on things."

"I imagine he's already contributing to our cause," Zither says, half jokingly, half exasperated. He never says anything about the future he sees for his kind, not outright at least, not like Rion. "As for _your_ cause, yes, I do agree that Altus Dorian Pavus has many things to say about the mages' free reign. I'm just not sure you will like it."

"Oh, come on," Rion's disregards easily Zither's comment. "I've heard that he supposedly doesn't do blood magic but his fire magic and necromancy is mighty enough to shake the skies. I want to know-"

"-if he's got more power than you?" Belinda asks with bright eyes. "Yes! I would like to know that, as well. And whether Hall's better than the famous Messere Thetras in the matter of bows and arrows. But, please, we came here to share a drink, isn't that right? Could we possibly start now? Please?"

"Here's your wine, milady." Zither gives her a cup with richly red wine. She takes it with sunny smile.

"I've never done that, you know? It's-" She sips, then coughs a little, then sips some more. The rest look at her with curiosity; Zither's eyes obscured from view by his mask, but his interest apparent in his smile. "It's actually nice to sit with friends between cheery people that joke and laugh and sing and are simply together."

Yes, all those things are nice, thinks Hall, refilling his mug with more ale. They drink and they joke and they laugh, and he feels comfortable with the three of them. Even when more and more people gather around them, attracted by the virtuoso, he's still good. But then, the ale's pleasantly buzzing in his head, soothing his normal anxiety. And if there's a hand on his shoulder while Zither passes him in his walk for new bottles or a long stare and soft smile between exuberant stories full of music and magic and good humor, it only grounds him more and he's far from complaining even when his ears burn some more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
